


No Promises During Wartime

by nostalgicatsea



Category: Marvel Noir
Genre: Angst, Goodbyes, M/M, Wartime Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicatsea/pseuds/nostalgicatsea
Summary: They had to be careful with what they said to each other. Wartime meant they had to ration their words.





	No Promises During Wartime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faite/gifts).



> Inspired by [this farewell kiss](http://hellogarbagetime.tumblr.com/post/158154973979/day-810-marvel-noir-a-farewell-kiss) drawn by the ever industrious and magnificent faite/hellogarbagetime. 
> 
> This fic can also be found on [Tumblr](http://nostalgicatsea.tumblr.com/post/158563274429/spaceliondad-day-810-marvel-noir-a-farewell).

There were things that they never said to each other. 

Stay with me. 

Don’t leave me.

Come back to me. 

The war was too cruel and indiscriminate to allow for them; they couldn’t afford to make promises. Not in their line of work where tomorrows were never guaranteed.

They had to make do with what they had, and the little they had was enough. Would have to be enough. Just to see them through the war, Tony thought, and then… And then… He always stopped himself from thinking any further than that. The future was a tapestry of spider silk—beautiful, but easy to destroy. Insubstantial. 

It wasn’t real. (Not yet.)

But this, _this_ was real. This moment was real. Steve, solid and warm under his hands, was real.

“I love you,” Tony wanted to say because that was real too.

There were snowflakes catching in Steve’s eyelashes. They had been standing there for too long, reluctant to leave, savoring each second. Luxuriating in it. Time was a precious currency, but he would spend it all on Steve if he could.

He would give Steve everything if he asked. He wanted to give Steve everything. 

It would have been so much easier if Steve hadn’t been a soldier. He would have been able to squirrel Steve away in one of his apartments then, see him whenever he liked. Pamper him; give him everything he wanted; keep him safe, comfortable, and happy, as far away from the war as possible. But Steve would have never been okay with that, didn’t want a life like that, and that was why Tony loved him in the first place. 

It didn’t make it any easier to let him go.

“Be safe, Steve,” he said because that was allowed. A benediction, not a promise. 

They were close enough that his breath ghosted across their faces, a hazy plume fading almost as soon as it appeared. His words hung in the air long after it dissipated.

 _Let me have this. Let me keep him,_ he begged, though to whom he didn’t know. In the tranquility of the small hours and snow-buried street, they were the only two people in the world.

Steve cupped his head in his hands, tenderly, like he wanted nothing more than to take care of him. He was always so gentle when they parted. 

“You too, Tony,” he said. And against his lips, lower but more fervent: “Godspeed.”

There were things that they never said to each other, things that they were careful not to say. But Tony thought that Steve knew them anyway; Steve kissed him, and each of his kisses felt like a prayer to bring him home.


End file.
